A wonderful characteristic of getting old is that your “lake of memories” is almost full — not yet to overflowing — but beginning to ebb at the edges of the shore. You are able, therefore, to look back a very, very long way. One of its odder aspects is that you tend to actually remember more and more particulars of when you were young.
One recollection that comes to mind is that of my piano teacher, Mrs. Ives. I am sure that she was actually an extremely nice woman, but she filled me with a sense of dread that was indescribable. This fear was fueled by a plethora of books and comics that focused on witches, ghosts, and goblins — a real clutch of Gothic Horror. (1) This was popular reading at the time.
I was convinced that the good lady was, in reality, part of the dark side. It all began with her house. Her home was situated on top of, what seemed to be, a very high hill. Once a week, I would trundle up to the top of this promontory and then proceed to her front door. The residence held a sense of foreboding. It smelled, to my imaginative nostrils, like a dank German forest. The Grimms’ Fairy Tales (2) were all the rage when I was a child and this structure nestled perfectly into the Black Forest. (3)
I recall that the door creaked when it opened. You were ushered into a light-filled halfway and then a darkened music and piano room. I was an indolent student and, much to my mother’s dismay, just would not practice my scales. (4) A two-pronged disciplinary attack was instituted. My mother, certainly with my tutor’s blessing, would force me to sit at the piano, hour upon hour, to improve my efficacy. The instructor used a more corporal or physical approach — a slight, in her eyes, rap on my knuckles. All was to no avail. I was a bad student and a poor piano player. With great relief to all, I was finally allowed to quit my lessons when I entered grade eight.
A curious compendium to this tale: two years later, when I joined a rock-and-roll band, my piano playing vastly improved and I entered into my “professional phase.” I think this had a lot more to do with the fairer sex than my musical competence — but that is another story from my young life. The great actress, Sophia Loren, (5) leaves us with a thought: There is a fountain of youth: it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to your life, and the lives of people you love. When you learn to tap this source, you will truly have defeated age.
A closing thought: Young adulthood is a wonderful time for experimentation — both physical and psychological trials are acceptable. It is important to remind oneself, however, that the sins of adolescence cannot be carried into middle and old age. The temple, the body, will simply burn out. A short visit to any medical institution will quickly remind the thoughtful person of that truism.
To sum up: This week we spoke about some adventures of the teen years.
To be noted: From Ella Wheeler Wilcox (6) — Life is a privilege. Its youthful days shine with the radiance of continuous Mays.
Just for fun:
For reflection:
This week, on your reflective stroll, please recall some important moments of your youth — great fun!
Every day look for something magical and beautiful.
Don’t be a wage slave – critical thinking is great!
Quote: Enjoy all aspects of your life.
Footnotes:
1) A Brief History of Gothic Horror
2) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grimms%27_Fairy_Tales
3) Black Forest Germany & Austria Nature, 4K Ultra High Definition.
4 )Music Scales Explained in 6 Minutes
5) Sophia Loren